Note: It's still not mine
Here comes romantic fluff, mind your heads and REVIEW, please!
One more thing - just as you are all surely busy writing those reviews - would you like to read about a different approach of Snape's character in another story? This one is a badass sometimes, but I have one in mind who is not at all hero-material, a knot of anxious nerves and agony... would you care to read about him in another story? Please share your thoughts!
Chapter 20. "Come with me!"
The imploring witch started towards her quarters like she never expected him to defy her. Severus found himself bothered again by her arrogance and first turned the other way. However, there was nothing waiting for him at the other end of those stairs. He saw himself struggling in his armchair, fighting with himself, toiling with his unwelcomed thoughts and unruly magic, and realized he didn't know how long he could carry on like this. If only her tone was easier to swallow!
With lingering irritation, Severus approached the door the witch left open, and against a thousand reasons that suggested otherwise, he entered her chambers. He felt out of place, the more when he recalled that the only other witch he had ever seen inside her Hogwarts quarters was no other than McGonagall. It seemed lame and ridiculous, making him wary and keen to show himself more self-assured than he'd ever been. How could the freaking insecurities of his youth hold on this long?
Looking around with painfully forced calm and a hint of artificial superiority, his first impression was about the bookshelves. They ran all around the living room's walls, giving the room unmerited familiarity - the workbench as well. It stood under the window, even faced it. Above the bench, he saw satchels filled with different ingredients hanging from hooks in the ceiling; bouquets of herbs dried there in a similar manner, explaining the witch's probable familiarity with the Forbidden Forest and the unique opportunities it presented to an accomplished brewer. He saw two different seized cauldrons patiently waiting for her command. Severus was tempted to walk over and nose out what she was working on, but there was a couch and an armchair in the way which flanked a low table.
His slow thawing to the new situation was cut short when Beauxbaton walked in from through a side door, closed the entrance with a leisurely wave of her hand while wiping it still on a towel, and lacked her Hogwarts robe in favour of a blue and seemingly more comfortable one.
"Sorry, I never feel myself home before I wash my hands. Have you made yourself comfortable?"
She turned away before Severus could force any reply. It took some moments till he realized she had opened a cellaret and sorted through it before turning back to him.
"Here, this is cognac from the Gautier manor. That place has the best and oldest in the world if you ask me. It was a gift grand-mere received some years ago. A sin to open it, but I suppose I'm on the verge of losing all our treasures, so why not enjoy it while I can?" - She pulled a shoulder and looked so defiant, Severus for a second thought she even pouted. "I'd like to share it with you," – she added with a sudden smile.
Severus was not into drinking, but when the golden liquid glinted in the tulip-shaped glass and even more when he saw that curious glint in her eyes, he reached for the offered drink. It was not hard to recall the conversation between Lucius, Dupont and the Roux. Hearing of their plans, he already knew the Coquinne fortune was doomed, even if he didn't care about it that moment. Now he could literally have a taste of what was to pass and could not condemn an heiress for stowing away whatever she could.
While he mused himself into acceptance and understanding and finally sat down with the exceptional cognac, Sage turned to the bookshelves and drew forth a slim, old-looking and overused tome. Only a few pages, and she lay it between them on the table open towards him. He saw hieroglyphs and Greek letters on the left side pages, and the Arabic and Latin translations on the right. Even the sight of it and the line breaks were enough for Severus to jerk his head up and stare into the witch's smiling, awaiting gaze.
"True it is, without falsehood, certain and most true. That which is above is like to that which is below, and that which is below is like to that which is above, to accomplish the miracles of one thing. And as all things were by contemplation of one, so all things arose from this one thing by a single act of adaptation…" [i] – He slowly recited the well-known text on his balmy, velvety tone.
"The father thereof is the Sun, the mother the Moon. The wind carried it in its womb, the earth is the nurse thereof. It is the father of all works of wonder throughout the whole world. The power thereof is perfect. If it be cast on to earth, it will separate the element of earth from that of fire, the subtle from the gross. With great sagacity it doth ascend gently from earth to heaven. Again it doth descend to earth, and uniteth in itself the force from things superior and things inferior. Thus thou wilt possess the glory of the brightness of the whole world, and all obscurity will fly far from thee. This thing is the strong fortitude of all strength, for it overcometh every subtle thing and doth penetrate every solid substance. Thus was this world created. Hence will there be marvellous adaptations achieved, of which the manner is this. For this reason I am called Hermes Trismegistus, because I hold three parts of the wisdom of the whole world. That which I had to say about the operation of Sol is completed." Beauxbaton finished reciting with him.
"We don't teach this here," – he pointed out, clearing his throat.
"I know," – she said shyly. "Neither at Beauxbatons."
She suddenly flashed him a wide, mischievous smile that made her eyes shine with excitement and anticipation.
"But you know it by heart!"
Severus studied her face with narrowed eyes. Of course, he knew it by heart. This was the Emerald Tablet text, probably the first source he ever learned by heart from a dusty tome among his mother's collection. He barely understood half of it that time, even with a dictionary - one of the reasons he taught himself Latin when he was nine.
However, that tome and everything according to these lines had never made into Hogwarts' curriculum. Even in the restricted section, he barely found cross-references, which was surprising at first. He even asked Sluggy in his second year, and the old tubby only laughed. "We are not into Alchemy here, son. This is science. Read Paracelsus or Robert Fludd with care! Or better if you rely on contemporary studies, what good it would do if you made the old mistakes again?"
So he did. Those were the words guiding him towards the Potion Quarterly at an age he had no idea even about the titles. But a month is long without friends and socializing, and he made it his duty to understand as much of every last month's edition as he could. And he had indeed read Paracelsus. He especially liked his work on bodily fluids and felt a little disappointed when later found similar concepts in earlier texts from Galen and Hippocrates when he discovered their works. And thus came the times when he began to compare their opinions as if they sat in a room where he, at his admirably matured age of thirteen or fourteen, held court and judged them. Then he judged his textbooks and marked them Troll, for they failed.
"You know it also," – he noted. "How would Alchemy help in your opinion of such" – he held out his sparkling fingers – "endeavours?"
The witch reached out and held his hands in her palms. It was confusing.
"Pull it back!" – She asked silently.
Severus pulled a face instead and tried to pull his hands also away, but the witch came with them, kneeling in front of his seat in a swift motion, watching him.
"I'm unsure if I can anymore." - Confessing this felt like diving in unknown water, and he felt as if he was falling from a cliff until she squeezed his hands encouragingly and told him it was all right in a tone he was inclined to at least try to believe.
"What happened?" – She asked again, with the same direct practicality. It was relieving, enforcing the lie he was not in trouble.
"I was… I was having fun" – he finally decided and began. "I was selfish and reckless and used my time in solitude and unsupervised to return to my mistakes."
Curiously Beauxbaton pushed herself up and away from him with unforeseen anger.
"If I wished to hear Albus, believe me, I could have asked him! I don't give a shit about your guilt and all else he forced upon you to manipulate you. I have my own leashes he tries to hold." She turned back energetically, looking Severus straight in the eye. "What really happened? If you tell me the truth, I'll tell you a truth."
"You are disturbingly sure about his faults," Severus remarked.
"I am. Isn't this why you came? Shall I assist you?"
His teeth ground in frustration; it was too hard. He had become used to forcing himself to accept Dumbledore's judgement. How could he share his deepest thoughts? It didn't mean he didn't want to… it was more like he lacked the way to dig them out from under years that piled up on them.
"I accept your assistance" – Severus managed to say not to lose on the opportunity but unable to talk.
"All right." – She nodded. "So the tabula. What does it mean to you?"
It was safe. It was scholarly. He slowly relaxed.
"Well, even the Muggle philosophers had their approach. Taking the Sun, the Sol as completed, a metaphor of God and the three parts consisting the Holy Trinity, but also Alchemy reflects upon the three combining as the Tria Prima: Chaos, Light and water combining to become Spirit."
Sage's eyes narrowed.
"That's Robert Fludd, wasn't it?"
"Of course."
"I didn't ask that."
"You asked what it means. Up and down, big and small, macrocosmos and microcosmos all merge if functioning right, but disturb the merger and-"
"Paracelsus?" – She impatiently cut in, and Severus nodded. "You know I studied Potions too, sola dosis facit venenum[ii]. I might not have been as quick to finish my apprenticeship as you were, but I passed my finals too."
"What do you want? Mirandola? Agrippa? Or shall we skip to modern and recite Kybalion?"
"I asked why you learned it. What does it mean to you?"
"An escape!" – He shouted out, forgetting himself. "Is this what you wish for? To see what I threw away? I've been beaten for it even as a kid. I lost my… Fuck, I lost everything for it, but it was right there and telling the truth that no one wished to hear! It's rankling! Devastating! It's my curse, my fucking burden, never going away! It's…" – He didn't even notice how his gestures came wider, and his magic shot out with uncontrolled force when his attention turned elsewhere.
Beauxbaton ducked with startling speed and kicked her armchair in the way of his magic to control the blow.
Severus paled and clutched his hands in fists. "I didn't mean that." – He mumbled confusedly.
"It is completely normal if you neglect your training." The witch gathered herself and sat next to him on the sofa. "All that loves should know I would be neglecting mine also if I had to train with the devil of my age! Why do you do it? Here's Albus, didn't you tell him?"
"Of course I did!" – He stood up and, hiding his clenched fists under his armpits, slowly paced the room. "Well, I didn't need to. He was as adept at seeing the change as the Dark Lord."
"So… why are you here instead of with him?"
It was humiliating, not that he wasn't familiar enough with the feeling. "Because… Apparently, he believes I need no training. As I could evoke and unbind my magic, he was sure I could sort it out. Eventually, I'm sure I will."
Sage sank in thoughtful silence for long enough for him to stop pacing up and down her room. This was not the manner in which he intended to behave, and he reminded himself the witch could have no way to know how far he came only by accepting her invitation, not to even mention her questions. How was he to talk to a friend – hopefully – after blowing up her armchair?
"It must be hard to sort anything out with the Dark Lord in your head."
"He's not in my head. This is the object of occluding, should I remind you?" The witch hid her face in her pulled-up shoulder, maybe a motion of withdrawal? "He wished to teach me wandless magic but deemed me too weak for his efforts. The Dark Lord's gracious advice was to suppress every whim of my magic unless I want to struggle with something I cannot rule. He even threatened me with my developing an obscurus should I hesitate to follow his words."
Sage stared at him with open astonishment for a long while, but for his last words, she jerked her head with an impulse.
"WHAT?"
"I imagine you disagree with him too."
Beauxbaton reigned in her outrage with visible hardship.
"That's a typical English understatement" – she finally told him. "I'm sure you know as well as I do that an obscurus can be developed in childhood if someone suppresses the magical abilities, not if you decide to live them out. You might have experienced some drawbacks, but his so-called advice to suppress your magic… and even as a mature wizard!" – She shook her head. "Have you thought about his horrible advice?"
Severus debated the merits of sharing the uncomfortable details, but at this point, he was through with distrust. He rarely felt he needed any aid in his life, sure not as an adult, and he would probably not seek it, but having it falling in his hands…
"After blowing up the ceiling above my head and other bitter surprises, his claim seemed to have at least some merit even if I refused his phrasing."
"Oh, my…" – The witch buried her face in her palms. "What is the truth the tabula tells you? That no one wishes to hear?"
"Beauxbaton…"
"Just tell me, please. Anything it is, I promise I will tell and show you things that are more bewildering and probably more embarrassing than whatever you might possibly say."
"It tells me that the world is whole, and every single part and aspect of it is whole. It tells me I may harm if I divide what is whole. I couldn't really get further. The rest are just thoughts and feelings mainly."
She livened up.
"Do you also mean that magic is whole?"
Severus swallowed, but eventually, he nodded.
"Yes, I think I do say that exactly."
Her smile widened to a warm and welcoming gesture of approval and acceptance. If she meant to make him feel bewildered, she had already achieved that without saying a word, but Severus wisely kept this to himself.
"If you tell me what spell you used to unbind it, I have no more questions."
Now embarrassed, Severus looked away, anxious of her reply.
"I used no spells, only my will."
"Beg your pardon?"
"I SAID I USED NONE!" – He lost his patience. If she was going to go to the threatening part like the Dark Lord, he wanted to get it over with it.
However, Beauxbaton only stared at him with her mouth agape for long seconds. Even her breath seemed caught before she jumped up from her sofa, ran to the bookshelf, turned and hurried back to him, radiating excitement.
"Do you know what this means?! You're a natural! Gods and spirits all around, I wish I ever had such a gift! Did your mother know?"
Confused and wary of her reaction and thoroughly uncomfortable like always when it came to talking about Eileen, Severus stepped back.
"If she did, she never mentioned it."
"Perhaps some elder relatives? The Prince is a long-standing family. There must have been someone to train you!" – She chuckled, forgetting herself – "Even if it seems not all were that capable."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, your hair, of course! Just because you must have been a bald baby, no one should have used this ancient spell on your hair. Gods, your mom must have been livid! I wouldn't be surprised if she cursed the fool!"
Now, most of his buttons pushed, Severus backed away from her and only replied with menacing silence and narrowed eyes until it became obvious that the witch had no idea how he felt about this part of his past. Not ever talking about his childhood, he had now a strange feeling emerging about his chest. The last thing he ever expected was anyone to presume his mother ever stood up for him. If she only knew who she was talking about! But actually, there used to be a picture, the only one with moving forms in a chest-drawer next to Eileen's wand, and Aunt Maggie never shadowed their threshold even if she was the only one he heard about once visiting his mother.
"How would you know about this?"
Sage chuckled again.
"Aren't you suspicious by nature? No witchcraft here; I love history, remember? This spell was common in the Middle Ages. Of course, at that time, no one cared about the side-effects. They seemed normal. I haven't read about anyone using it for about two hundred years by now, but it used to break up families on the female lines by the time it withered. I wonder who this dilettante was! Surely not a Prince!"
"I heard it was my great aunt." – He cautiously replied.
Maggie was said to be his grandfather's sister. The witch got this wrong. She was a Prince indeed; however, he had a low opinion of that family. Decidedly not a bit better than what they thought of him. Being a pure-blood as she was, would she care?
"Your mom must have been livid" – she repeated – "I read there were vicious fights about this in most Enlighted families since about the sixteen hundreds. It's not a great hardship to wait a baby to grow his own hair, but the relatives were impatient and the spell's use stuck causing young men and women to struggle with the side-effects. You cannot cut it short or regulate it by any means, it deflects most glamour and any attempt to alternate it. It must be hard, although it's not as bad as I read about it. It even suits you." She smiled. "If your mother had made a fuss about it like I would, and ripped the family, maybe you didn't meet the one to recognize how talented you are. But Albus should have. Have you talked to him about the form of your early magic?"
"Beauxbaton, I recall you already asked the question you promised to be the last."
"I take this as a no. Although it might be important." When he didn't reply, she sighed and sat back on the sofa. "All right, it's my turn - about the tabula. It speaks to me of inclusivity. It tells me nothing one-sided is perfect. It tells me that creation, creating is allowed and that the world is only perfect with all the polarities.
It tells me I should not be bothered by them, but I have a feeling I have a part in them. That by playing my part, I add to the wholeness. It is sometimes frightening because I have deeds and desires on both sides, but then I am reminded that polarities are part of the whole. I am part of the whole, and my polarities are parts of me. Maybe if I was better, the world would become better. It sounds stupid. I don't know."
"Your game is stupid, explaining what no one could explain, but actually your opinions make sense." – Severus thought.
"I have a lot of stupid games you would find useful. About unintentional magic" – she sighed – "You shouldn't be embarrassed. If you stop practicing, especially in the first stage after releasing your magic, it can be hazardous. Now your goal is to get comfortable with your magic, to get to know it and let it roam." She talked with absorbing passion. "You should trust it, admire it. You are one of the few. With your open mind, willingness to experiment and to learn, you should understand this. I know I love my magic unconditionally, I trust it, and it does everything for me I want."
She trusts in her magic – Severus realized and remembered that bird who taught him to do the same. Sage used no scholarly phrasing like Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. Why? At the same time, what she said seemed more real than anything he had learned in an educated tone.
"You are talking about it as if it was a different entity." – He noticed.
"Well, I guess." She laughed shyly. "It certainly feels that way, although I know it's a part of me. Once I even heard accepting your magic described as accepting yourself."
Severus had serious doubts this should be the right approach even if he could appreciate her words in their honesty and romanticism.
"About the drawbacks…" - she went on – "I believe it must be hard with the power of an adult wizard, surrounded with a thousand children. It must be tremendous pressure. I remember when my magic got loose, I once evoked a full-fledged tornado. Grand-mere didn't praise me with kindness when it continued on its way taking our roof, because I had neglected my practice."
The memory seemed to make her sad, and Severus noticed she blinked as fast as if she wished to hold back tears. He was grateful she held those back, even if he needed some time to figure why she slipped suddenly in this solemn mood. He wasn't surprised when the witch began to talk about the hour.
"I practice every dawn by the Forest. I know you saw me. You're welcome to join tomorrow."
The night ran away with contemplations for Severus, who sank into his memories about his childhood, and also looked up some of his favourite authors on Alchemy and its philosophical background.
He never thought about perusing them according to his experiments on magic, but the thread of logic Beauxbaton offered prompted him to change his approach. He tried to use common logic, the scientific approach on magic and the well-developed theories he could access, but now it appeared as if he was still following Slughorn's ancient advice.
Just like Muggle science, magic also went through a change of approach through the ages, even if the change was less palpable. The ancient times' holistic attitude faded in favour of established doctrines and rules. Paracelsus was viewed more about his explanations on poisons and astrological findings than about his careful philosophical approach.
While trained and taught at Hogwarts, he had slowly lost most of his initial enthusiasm for finding the universal Truth; instead, he accepted that truth was fragmented and dependent on its point of view. Was it possible to unlearn even more? To step back? And how would that help him? Of course, besides the fact that his magic already withdrew while he contemplated these questions.
Before the first rays of sunshine lit the sky, Severus sneaked out of the castle and hurried towards the Forest's tail-end, where he used to observe Beauxbaton practicing. She waited hidden under the trees, and on his approach, she turned and walked deep into the woods. The October chill bit into his skin and took the better part of his curiosity and eagerness away, the rain dampened his robe, and it wasn't encouraging to see her leaving the path behind after about fifty steps either. Severus reached for his wand and held it in his cold hand, preparing for any unwelcome surprises. Finally, something like a riding cut let them onto a small clearing.
"Are you cold?" – Sage began without a greeting like she only continued their previous discussion. "Stop the rain!"
The mischief written all over her face didn't endear her command to Severus. Neither did his drenched robe do much for his sense of humour.
"What?" – He breathed, looking up for the hopeless sky.
"Rule one: You never let your magic out before I pull back mine."
The witch stepped away, held out her hand like she wanted to catch the raindrops on her palm. Then Severus realized they didn't reach her skin anymore. He watched her face and saw pure joy. He watched her outstretched hand, her form and saw the rain evaded the air about her. First her palm, then her arms, her shoulders, even her hair.
She must have pulled back her magic because the rain suddenly showered her again, and she turned to face him expectantly.
It was a difficult challenge. He had never tried to focus on such tiny, unpredictable objects before. First, he tried to find a pattern in the rain's dropping, but there was none to detect. The rain had as much of its own rules and will as he thought of his magic.
Severus took a deep breath and let his magic out. It shot out of him with full force and hit the trees at the other side of the clearing like a wind. Branches crackled, limbs waved, and it took time to force it back to himself and regain focus. He could only attempt to try to stop the rain wetting his palm only after it had its joyful minutes of roaming around and tamed into a manageable state. And he had not a single idea how to begin to do that.
He shivered in the cold but didn't give it up. After he couldn't find any pattern, his second thought was to form some kind of a shield to protect himself, first about his palm. With concentrated effort, he produced something shiny, like an orb which did not let the rain through, but it took tremendous focus and energy. When he tried to grow it large enough to protect him, it evaporated, and he felt even colder than before.
He refused to even look at the witch and determinedly sought another method but had trouble thinking of any. Finally, he was desperate enough to mutely beg that his unruly magic didn't leave him in shame before her, and for his surprise, it came to his aid obediently waiting, buzzing around him. He asked with his heart's will for it to keep the rain away, at least for a while, and the next thing he knew was his robe dried, and no raindrops fell anymore in his three feet radius.
Beauxbaton jumped and clapped with joy when he finally dared to look at her.
"That was amazing! Have you never tried it before?"
Severus shook his head.
He obliged when she requested him to pull his magic back, and he let the witch cast the usual protecting shield above their heads with her wand.
"Come, let's have breakfast" – she called him now without that annoying command in her tone – "This is enough for a day, it won't bother you now. I'll be here tomorrow morning if you want."
"Rule number two is to practice every day, I assume."
"Actually, that's point zero," – she laughed. "You do love rules, do you?"
"They make the world predictable."
"I'm less inclined to like that, but if you want, we may construct your own set of rules. If you're a natural, as I believe, you must have had the basics even as a child. Can you remember practicing?"
"No, I only charmed leaves and drew in the sand like all others. Nothing extraordinary, just the usual underage magic. Once I flew up the roof, but that's not uncommon either."
"Not exactly, but… What made you charm leaves or draw in the sand with magic?"
Severus took his time to compose his answer in a manner he didn't need to mention his secrets.
"Drawing is a common pastime for children, and with the leaves, I wanted to cheer up a friend."
To his surprise, Sage halted and seemed taken aback.
"Are you telling me you did both on purpose? Before school or before you even had a wand?"
When he nodded, she was pleased to no end.
"There you go. Early magical abilities show without purpose. They are linked to emotions and the sense of danger. You ruled your magic then. You will rule it again."
.
In the coming weeks, Severus applied himself diligently to practice every dawn. Sage never failed to praise with a short word or a nod, but her astonished exclamations and untampered enthusiasm subdued and became only a friendly attitude. She noted his achievements and encouraged him with gestures but continued overall less verbose, which was a strange but welcomed occurrence, and oddly similar to some of his childhood experiences.
Childhood seemed to be a major part of his practice anyway. Almost every occasion reminded him to some or another part of his earliest experiences which gave ample additions to his overnight musings. Beauxbaton thoroughly encouraged those.
There were several odd outcomes of their training. On the one hand, Sage made him feel comfortable in his skin. He couldn't even ascertain how. On the other hand, he noticed he was less keen on eating or sleeping properly as the curious, positive feelings fuelled him throughout his day. Truth be told, it was electrifying, like a constant itch to have a shared moment with her to live on the energy it somehow gave. He gained some spring in his walk and enough cheer to ease him through the everyday troubles.
Of course, there was no-one to notice the changes. Dumbledore, true to his word, went off on his errands and was yet to return. Although Severus had always been adept at hiding his emotions, it was hardly even needed for nobody gave a thought this time of year to anything else but the Quidditch Season.
The Gryffindors regained permission to play with an awkwardly long struggle. He should have felt comradeship with Minerva against The Pink, but, honestly, her constant worrying was funnier than anything else. He was inclined to see the funny sides of life's occurrences anyway lately.
Severus had never been into Quidditch, but he was the last to give up on an opportunity to spike the Head of Gryffindor if he could. It served her right. Why did she have to be a sports fan? Easy target.
With a badly hidden smirk, he reserved the Quidditch pitch for all possible hours; he offered impossible bets to Minerva and Flitwick against the Hufflepuffs then told about them accidentally to Sprout; he forgot to remind his students about manners when they attacked Alicia Spinnet, Gryffindor's player. He also turned a blind eye to other minor atrocities on the corridors. Baiting and trashing Slytherins had a traditional sense of righteousness in Hogwarts - he knew this firsthand. So now he stood up for his kids, for there was no one else to do so and with his newfound good spirits, he enjoyed every moment of it.
If he reminded Slytherin students to keep at least some boundaries, he did it in the evening in the privacy of their Common Room. Speaking about the Common Room, he once even asked Minerva to check the regulations if the Quidditch Cup had to be stored in the Head of House's office or could he start to save up for a container to place in Slytherin House's common quarters. She was out of her mind!
.
Among her exercises and challenges at dawn – which were often incredibly hard to fulfill – Beauxbaton also developed a habit to brew with him. It began with his mentioning the Wolfsbane "for a friend." She had no idea about Lupin, and Severus was hesitant to tell her. Not because of a lack of trust, more for fear he would go too far again. It would have felt suspiciously good to tell her, and he had already learned that those times he felt like that he usually was into a short but thorough berating, and Albus could return any day.
Anyway, it was enough to mention the potion for her to jump on the opportunity. Having two more proficient hands in the lab was entertaining and a moment's ease in the frequent demands from the Infirmary. On these brewing sessions, Beauxbaton began to engage him in idle talk. She told him about some students, asked about the school, the Order, the library… whatever came to mind. Actually, her conversation was more effortless and enjoyable than he imagined.
By the end of October, with some guilt, Severus noticed that Halloween was around the corner, and he hadn't experienced his usual lapse of spirit. He thought he should have, and the thought gave a - these days uncommon - troubled night. The next morning, he was reluctant to oblige when Sage offered a lunch together, attempting to right his near betrayal of Lily's memory.
When Sage called him, the skies were bright all right, and it was indeed a Saturday without too many obligations, but he closed himself away and told her they didn't knew each other well enough to freeze to the trees together out in the woods. He intended this as a warning dressed as a joke, also adding something about the Pink Toad, but she laughed off his concerns.
"If you feel this way, we should do this properly. You're right. I wouldn't say I know you, and I doubt it's different the other way around."
"What makes you think I want to do anything about it?"
The witch stared at him for a short time but then only pulled her shoulder before she turned back to the castle and left without any further words. It felt wrong.
"Hey, Beauxbaton!" – Severus easily caught her before she reached the path. "All right, let's say I didn't mean it!"
She shook her head in disbelief and told him to never mind. Curiously he found he did mind indeed. At least as much as he minded his lack of fear of Halloween this year. It was a strange tumult of incoherent thoughts, hard to find the right words – he's never been good with those anyway.
"Beauxbaton!" – he tried again. "Just tell what would mean proper for you…"
"Have a good day, Severus" – with a short, forced smile, she nodded and hurried out of the Forest.
He couldn't follow her. He never did. It was too open a field up to the castle and too long into the morning to risk anyone seeing them. However, the odd feeling that something was not right stayed with him as he walked his circle and eventually found his way back to the dungeons on a longer route.
When after some hours he still felt out-of-sorts, Severus called the house-elf and ordered some sandwiches to Beauxbaton's quarters before lunch. To Chubby's astonishment, he didn't add any message, so he wasn't surprised when he found her door closed at lunch time.
While cursing under his breath, an idea struck him, and Severus hurried down for his cloak to walk to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't have waited for long because he saw her casting her usual heating charm.
"Was this proper enough?" – He tried again as a greeting.
"You kind of screwed that already."
Her bitter laugh was like the sound of her giving up. Once, she already said she would. Severus sighed inwardly. She shouldn't be the next one to give up on him. He wouldn't want her to, but how to tell that? Out of words, he nudged her elbow lightly, and she managed to reply to the unspoken question.
"I just thought we could eat and maybe play. I don't know what's wrong with you today."
"You want to play…" – unbeknownst to him, Snape stared like he was unfamiliar with the concept.
"Yes, that's what I thought. Don't look at me like that. It was a habit I had with Mira. When we felt we lost contact, we played. It could have worked with you" – she pulled a shoulder. "It's easy. You ask a question, but whatever the answer is, you'll have to answer it too …just a stupid game... it doesn't matter."
"Is that all? Only ask questions you're ready to answer yourself?" – This was not a concept too far-fetched from Slytherin.
She shrugged. "Well, basically."
"And what is it good for?"
"Nothing, silly!" She rolled her eyes. "It's a game. So, do you want to try?"
Maybe it was that simple for her, but never for Severus, who kept searching for the trap since he was about four. "Is this that favourite colour thing?"
She looked confused. "What? Was this your question?"
"It was a question I'm just trying to figure out-"
"Oh!" – She cried out and maybe even blushed. – "Oh, no. No, it's not like that. We played it after the school years, you know, if one of us missed out on something or so."
"Did you miss out a lot?"
"No. She would say yes, but those were just details. You?"
"I've never played this game!"
Now she pushed his shoulder, annoyed. "C'mon, you have to answer your questions!"
Without noticing it, Severus slipped back to a role he didn't play for more than two decades.
"That's silly." – He said with a snort.
"That doesn't qualify as an answer. It seemed you were in, so eat your sandwich and get on with it!"
He bit in his lunch ad chew deliberately slow. She was as much hitting the roof in her impatience as Lily used to. Girls are still stupid. That'll be easy – he decided with a smirk. "No." – he simply said to taunt her.
"What?" Her confusion was rewarding.
"My answer is no. Now you ask." – He challenged.
"Soo, you think you always knew what was going on about you?"
Severus shrugged. "You said the same. Ask!"
"All right. Your first time occluding?"
Well, that was out of the blue. He didn't know what to say. "Can't even remember!"
"Don't cheat!"
"I don't, I have no idea… it was …well, long. I don't know if I ever did not do it."
She searched his face long before she accepted. "All right. I was ten, Mira was seven, and I took the custard to cheer her."
"What's occluding in that?"
"Grand-mere"- she said in a tone of shame and a hint of pride.
It was Severus' turn to laugh at her. "You stole it!"
"No, it was lying in plain sight. I just took it and preferred to keep my silence."
He had to chuckle at the face she made. Like things like that mattered! "You stole it, and you lied." – He pushed her on anyway for the fun of it.
"Think whatever you want." She pulled a shoulder and suspiciously her nose too. "Your turn."
"Okay. Erm…" – Severus was ready to lead this experience back to something he could deal with. "The most disgusting potions ingredient that ever stopped you brewing something."
"Easy. Draught for Derange. "Take a full skeleton of a newborn kitten.""
Severus halted, amazed.
"Why?" – she stared at him. Her wide-eyed incomprehension was an expression he would hardly forget.
"For Merlin's dirty long beard! There are all those slimy, rotten, poisonous materials and body parts, and your problem is a cat-skeleton?"
"It said newborn kitten! Have you ever had a cat?"
"No."
"Then shut up, they are… don't stare at me like that! I wasn't supposed to say they're cute!"
Now it was hard not to burst out laughing again. "Oh, of course, you were!"
"No!" – She denied violently – "But I actually like them. So what? I won't kill a kitten to derange someone. There are better methods!"
"You can always make them play your stupid games!"– He mocked her, earning a severe nudge between his ribs.
"All, right, all right…" – He tried to soothe her and moved on quickly. "It's harpy feathers."
"Yuck."
"Exactly. There's a concoction for inducing boils on the brains. You need to boil them up till the seventh minute in the seventh hour."
She wrinkled her nose with true disgust that showed she indeed knew what he talked about. It was also funny and cute. The wings of her nose seemed to shake. He had no idea how she did that! "Harpies stink the worst. Aww... Why would anyone boil that shite? I don't get it!"
"Absolutely, my thoughts were the same. It even sounds ridiculous, I've never done that, and I never will. We don't even have those in the curriculum here, and that's for the best."
Feeling safe now on familiar territory, Severus was surprised why she suddenly giggled. "Well, now I know you have a weak stomach!" –she sounded triumphant with no reason.
"I don't…"
However absently he replied that, her chuckles reminded him of those hundreds of people who found it curious if a potioneer had sensibilities. Now she taunted in a manner Severus was unsure if she would stick her tongue at him too.
"I'm sure you have. How many times did you throw up in your apprenticeship?"
He made a face to show how ridiculous she was. "I didn't keep count…"
"Me, only twice. If you can't count, it must have been a lot!" She wandered onto dangerous territory and didn't seem to notice that her cheerfulness annoyed him.
"So what if I did? It is disgusting!"
"It is," - she accepted. "But you still have a weak stomach!" Sage didn't seem to be a master of her chuckles. They bubbled out of her in fits, making all parts of her body move with their waves; even a tear escaped her eye. Severus stared for a long moment before he decided not to tolerate it.
"No, I… I don't have to play this game…"– he looked at his sandwich and threw it away with disgust. "Don't expect me ever play with you again!" – He turned away and fled; hearing her quick steps behind him only made him hurry more, mumbling synonyms on 'insufferable' and 'childish' with every step. He didn't even look back.
"Oh, C'mon, Severus…"
"I'll never play your silly games again" – he threw the words behind his shoulder before he left her alone.
And he meant it.
However, later he did indeed play again; this, and other rubbish, for it was still better than not taking part. Early mornings, some lunch breaks, nights with brewing-he slowly learned she kept a diary until her age of twenty, that she had frequent nightmares and could never go back to sleep without a tea. That she preferred thestrals to unicorns, but that otherwise she indeed had a thing for fury animals, which gave him ample opportunity to shamelessly repay her mockery.
He told her about his apprenticeship, stories from his youth he was not ashamed of, and some tidbits about his parents here and there. Sage never judged and noticeably tried hard to chuckle less. At least she didn't giggle. He tried to see the upside.
Sage was a good pal, and she never took his temper seriously. Something he was appreciative of. It made life easier that he didn't always feel the need to behave. Having her around was usually fun, and he never noticed how easily she made him laugh, only that snickering with her made him feel like a boy again.
He could only be glad about that fragment of right mind that stopped him before he gave in to that long-ago moment of insanity. If he ever fulfilled the desire that he remembered feeling for her that would have ruined all this with careful tiptoeing around something he would surely feel by now. Actually, Severus lamented more about this than he would have ever cared to admit.
He failed to recognize the moment when he first began to anticipate their "having fun" or when he began to distinguish it from their daily practice, but it happened sometime before the end of October. It didn't make Halloween much easier, but somehow the low point was less offsetting, and the mourning that renewed every year demanded him giving up his balance for a shorter time.
All in all, Severus decided it was safe and ridiculously innocent, and he loved to have a pal.
[i] This citation and the next: Steele, Robert and Singer, Dorothea Waley 1928. "The Emerald Table" This fiction makes a totally discretionary interpretation of the text, without any evidence and/or any claim about any so-called truth, only for the fun of living out a fantasy. This is NOT even an attempt to interpret Tabula Smaragdina at all. The fact I used it as an example shows only some misguided attempt at respect from my side. Please don't take me seriously to any degree! Thank you.
[ii] Sola Dosis facit venenum "Only the dose makes the poison" Paracelsus, Dritte detensio, 1538.